Bellatrix Lestrange
by MelissaLestrange
Summary: We will wait! He will rise again and will come for us! We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him! The infamous words of Bellatrix Black, the beautiful and corrupted Black Rose of the Death Eaters. Her story from child to Azkaban.
1. 20th March 1957

**20th March 1957**

She grabbed the gnome hard between her little soiled hands in an iron grip, digging her nails into its grubby flesh until dark blue blood began to trickle out of its body. She giggled faintly as it squealed with pain and fright, taking delight in its torment, and smiling as it writhed in her hand. She was about to drown it in the lake next to her when she heard her name being called faintly on the breeze.

"Bella! Bella!"

The young girl scowled darkly, realising her favourite game had been interrupted. She threw the gnome to the ground, breaking both its spindly legs with two sickening cracks as it hit a rock. She watched it writhe and moan by her feet for a second, enjoying her feeling of power over it, until finally turning away to look up at Black Manor about one hundred yards away from the edge of the small copse where she was standing.

6 years previously, Bella had been born in the huge castle. It was made of dark brick and had ivy creeping up its walls. It stood proudly; overlooking the many acres of land that surrounded it. It was a grand and impressive sight; the manor had two hundred rooms all wonderfully presented and kept in order by an army of house elves never seen nor heard. The house was one of the best in the wizarding world, _fit for only the highest aristocratic order_, thought Bella, mimicking her father. Even from her young age Bella was already proud of her family's pureblood status and convinced of her superiority over most other wizarding families. Her father had drummed their pureblood family motto into her head for as long as she could remember; "Toujours Pur" he often said, _Always Pure_, "Never forget that Bella". And she didn't. Her hatred for the impure scum of the wizarding world, the mudbloods and the half-bloods, was intense. They had dirtied their pure magical blood with that of some common muggle filth. For that they could never be forgiven. They disgusted Bella more than anything else and she grimaced at the thought of their presence in _her_ world.

She heard her name being called again, this time looking up to see her mother, dark blue robes billowing out behind her, striding towards where she stood. Bella nervously looked down at her white moccasin which was covered in grass stains and thick with mud, then eyed her hands which were stained blue.

"Bellatrix Black, where on _earth_ have you been this afternoon young lady!?" shouted her mother, "And my gosh! _Look at yourself!_ It's straight in the bathtub with you!"

Bella scowled and stamped her foot until her mother yanked her forcibly by the arm dragging her back towards the house.

"I can't _believe_ you've ruined your new moccasin robes Bella. The Malfoys are coming for dinner, do you really want to look like this in front of them?!"

Bella screamed loudly in protest at her mother but not one tear fell from her eyes. She had learnt in her own small way never to show that weakness because it meant being completely at someone else's mercy. Instead she looked angrily at her mother and her heavily pregnant stomach and longed to kick it hard.

"No mother!" She screeched, "I hate the Malfoys, their stupid baby Lucius doesn't stop crying! I don't care what I look like — "

Her mother promptly slapped her.

"Stop this obscene behaviour Bella, _this instant!_ Do you want your father to see you like this?"

Bella's eyes opened wide. She gulped and shook her head allowing herself to be dragged back to the mansion, the dusk light dimming further, whilst half listening to her mother's mutterings.

"Don't know what has gotten into you… Always out in the wood doing Merlin knows what …not like any other young witch I've ever known…"

Bella sat stiffly in the bathtub whilst one of the maids washed her hair. The candlelight flickered in the luxurious bathroom picking out the beautiful panelled walls and flagstone floor. Her robes were hanging up to the left on one of the mahogany cupboards, Bella's favourite set, made out of silky dark green cloth embroidered with magical flowers on the hem of the sleeves. Her mother said they complemented her dark brown eyes and hair.

"There you go, all done now miss."

"Don't look at me!" Bella snapped, "help me with my robes."

"Yes miss, begging your pardon miss"

As three towels hovered around her, drying her, Bella heard the sound of her fathers voice as he greeted the Malfoys and beckoned them to the dining hall. One maid brushed Bella's hair with a comb that dried it magically whilst the other dressed her. It was a most annoying spectacle to the young girl who wished they would just leave her alone but she had promised her mother she would be good and didn't retaliate. She slipped on her shoes and walked out the bathroom door, followed by the two maids cooing about how pretty she looked, towards the mahogany stair case where she met her mother who was looking beautiful with her hair decorated in diamonds and sapphires. She held out a delicate pearl drop necklace in her hand and told Bella to turn around so she could put it on her and the same time clicking her fingers twice at the maids who immediately curtsied and disappeared behind a tapestry.

"Remember Bella," she said as they walked down the mahogany stair case, "always be polite, smile and answer their questions with courtesy. Your father does a lot of business with Mr Malfoy and it benefits this household greatly. Now put your shoulders back and walk proudly Bella" whispered her mother as they walked into the dining hall.

The Malfoys arose from their seats as they walked in, Bella saw their baby near the fire in her old cot. At least it wasn't crying. She looked up at the Malfoys from under her eyelashes smiling bemusedly as they greeted her mother then turned their sickeningly fake attentions on to her.

"My hasn't she grown since the last time we were here, she's going to be as beautiful as her mother" observed Mrs Malfoy smiling at Mrs Black. Bella gripped her fists together and forced herself to smile sweetly at the woman and her huge bosoms. She hated being treated like a doll and not being addressed directly. In truth, she looked nothing like her mother; Bella had a harder, more angular face and heavier eyes compared to her mother's petite features.

They all sat down around the long table and immediately steaming food appeared in the bowls, roast potatoes seasoned with herbs and spices, a sumptuous brown steak sliced in the middle of the table took pride of place on a real silver platter, with vegetables steaming around it. Firstly however their bowls filled with a golden creamy soup. Bella sipped it delicately while listening to the adults' conversation.

"I'm still having trouble with the ministry; they are convinced I was involved with Grindlewald. Someone must have tipped them off that I leant him money in the 30's," said Mr Malfoy in posh English drawl. "If I had known that he had no ideals, it would have been a different story. He was simply a mad wizard."

"He no sense of class or how things should be done properly. Simply killing Wizards regardless of there status or birth. He had no real aims." Bella's father continued and Bella thought she caught a glimpse of a sly glint in his eye.

"Shame though, he was a talented wizard, willing to do anything for power, we simply couldn't mould him into someone who could lead our world, cleansing it of impure filth, instead he simply tried to destroy anyone who didn't support him and his uncivilised ways." Answered Mr Malfoy. He was not in fact referring to Grindlewald's killings, but simply the way he had lived. Bella had come to the conclusion in her young mind that he could not have possibly been powerful enough as he had been beaten. Really, part of Grindlewald's downfall was that the dark wizard had simply not been powerful enough to secure fear in these wealthy, pureblood families.

"It did seem he went too insane in the end and met the champion commoner, Dumbledore. The rest I suppose is history; blew him apart didn't he, Dumbledore?" added Mrs Malfoy, timidly.

"Don't mention that man to me" interjected her mother softly, closing her eyes as if she had been slapped. "Hogwarts has become a shambles because of him. He lets all manner of filth into that school, worse than the previous, Armando Dippit. If it wasn't for the fact Durmstrang was in Bulgaria hundreds of miles away, I'd be sending Bella there." She looked at her husband as she said this with a slight hint of anger in her voice.

Bella's attention wavered as the conversation developed into the choice of wizarding schools. She had heard it all before in her parents' argument a few months ago. Personally Bella had wanted to go to Durmstrang, as she was someone who considered it a great injustice, to even have to share a room with anyone who had something like a squib in their ancestry, let alone having to encounter a fully walking, talking, breathing mudblood in the same building. Her father had thought it "necessary to the greater cause" to send her to Hogwarts, to which her mother had replied "what could possibly be a greater cause than not letting her mix with dirt and scum?" Her father had simply smiled icily and said that she was going to Hogwarts, and that her mother had better accept it, even if it was simply because Bella didn't know how to speak Bulgarian. Her mother knowing defeat, had swept from the room, luckily not uncovering Bella in her favourite hiding place inside the wall in the corridor, behind one of the panels.

Bored now with the meal and direction of conversation, she slumped in her chair. She was about to excuse herself and go and play with baby Lucius when her father shot her a warning glare indicating she could by no accounts leave the table yet. The six year old sighed and found herself staring at the cot by the roaring log fire. She imagined herself rocking it, backwards and forwards…backwards and forwards, slowly…getting faster and faster until it toppled…straight into the fire. She let out a shrill giggle which silenced the discussion on the best way to eliminate half-breeds and all four adults turned to face her, her parents with disapproving expressions etched on their faces.

"Are you feeling well Bella?" Asked her mother sternly.

She nodded quickly. "Errr yes just laughing about the one where you burn them, on a big, big bonfire," she made up, "with a smelly smell because they're burning."

"I don't believe we discussed that one…" whispered Mrs Malfoy to her husband. Her mother raised an eyebrow and delicately cut her potato while her father seemed to have a little smile on his lips, surveying his daughter with something that seemed like amusement. Bella simply scowled darkly at them all and wished like anything that this would be over soon.

"Speaking of half-breeds and Hogwarts," began Mr Malfoy, clearing his throat importantly, "there was one a few years ago, part giant I believe, who managed to set a monster on the school's mudbloods. It was all hushed up of course but as a governor of the school I managed to gain a bit of knowledge into the matter," he continued, eager to fill the silence but this news was nothing the Blacks hadn't heard before. They had other sources to which they could find out this information. They had benefited from Grindlewald's reign of terror, and, at this time, their family was central and pivotal to pure-blood society, and they were well informed of most events which happened in the wizarding world; much more so than that of the Ministry of Magic even, who were simply too prudish and not ruthless enough to gain more beneficial connections.

"The beast that was set upon the school was in fact from The Chamber of Secrets, left by Salazar Slytherin himself as a way to all the filth being brought into the school -"

"-as legend goes" interrupted Bella's mother

"Indeed," answered Mr Malfoy, a little peeved his story had been interrupted. He dearly loved to tell this to select pureblood families he dined with as he felt personally involved, carrying insider's information. So he continued:

"And it was in fact this that was responsible for killing the Mudblood girl." He gave a little chuckle, "not a freak accident as her scum parents were told."

It was now that Bella's father took over, in a way that was so eager it was like he'd found his cue to say something he had been desperate to for a long time.

"But in fact, my dear friends," he said knowingly with a smile "it was most definitely not the right monster that was caught -"

"- or the right person," suddenly came the voice of a young man who had just at that second appeared through the dining hall door. He was perhaps in his mid-twenties, extremely handsome, with high cheekbones and black hair, slightly long but waved and elegant. Bella was like all the others in the room at that moment, shocked at this sudden appearance, except perhaps her father who had steadied himself quickly upon the man's arrival. She felt almost struck dumb by the man and was left to staring at him, her mouth parted slightly as she surveyed his eyes which were so dark and harsh but eluded an overwhelming feeling of power. In fact his whole body did and even at her young age she could feel it and see the effect it had had on the adults. Bella felt herself almost entranced by him; his presence in the room made her body tingle all over and caused hairs to raise on her arms.

"You should really train your servants better, Black, the one that answered the door distinctly refused to let me in to see you." He said this politely, but his tone did not reach the menacing expression in his eyes.

Her father sighed. "And what have you done with my maid this time young sir?"

"She can be revived. I wouldn't let you suffer a greater inconveniency," he said in the same cool tone.

"But still, better if I informed them of your arrival next time, I understand?" answered her father with a slight smile and expression that plainly said that he wouldn't.

The man nodded curtly at him, and Bella's father stood up to announce this unexpected visitor to the table. 

"May I introduce to you all, the _true wizard_ who opened the Chamber of Secrets and the only living descendent of the great Salazar Slytherin himself; _Tom Marvolo Riddle_."


	2. Absolute Persuasion

Bellatrix lay still in bed that very night, unable to sleep. She couldn't get the image of the stranger out of her head, and every time she closed her eyes she could see his face staring back at her, his dark eyes glinting. She could still recall that overwhelming feeling of his power. A little scared, the young girl shivered. Shadows around her room seemed to move as if mocking her. She hid under the quilt of her four poster bed as she remembered what had been said and done that night. Bella had been sent upstairs as soon as the stranger had been introduced, but had slyly sneaked back down to listen, so entranced was she by the man. She was also driven by her hatred of being left out of things by her parents. She remembered the atmosphere being tense, everyone was on edge, and the energy radiating from the room was almost overwhelming. The first voice she had heard was Mr Malfoy's, demanding and fierce.

"How can we possibly assume this, man, is in fact a descendant of Salazar Slytherin?! It's almost the most absurd piece of information…"

But his voice faltered as the stranger simply smiled at him, and started to make hissing noises from his mouth. Bellatrix, watching through the crack in the door, had thought that the man had gone mad, was maybe some imbecile, or perhaps was having some sort of speech problem until he stopped, and a small green snake slithered out from his sleeve.

"You can speak Parseltongue?" Her mother had gasped, absolutely stunned.

"Of course," he replied calmly, his voice like ice, "it was his great gift was it not?" He smiled idly at them all, waiting for their response. Mr Malfoy looked angrily at Bella's father.

"Preposterous! This is insane Black! Are you trying to tell me that you believe him?! For all we know he could have a very well trained snake or something, and even if he _is_ a parselmouth — how can that prove anything?! You yourself said that Slytherin's descendants had died out -"

Her father cleared his throat in an attempt to stop him carrying on, whilst looking apologetically at the visitor, who was now twirling his wand in a bored manner.

"No I won't hear it Black, I heard his name! Filthy common blood- !" He began, but at that very moment the stranger pointed his wand sharply at him and Bella saw a green light burst from his wand and settle like a piece of rope around Mr Malfoy's neck. It tightened, and for the first time Tom Riddle spoke menacingly, his face contorted and teeth clenched together.

"Don't ever talk about my blood in that way Malfoy."

His wand was still pointing at the green light around his throat. He turned his wrist and it pulled tighter. Mr Malfoy began to gag and tried to clutch at the light around his neck, but to no avail. "My blood is purer than any of yours," the man said through gritted teeth, looking around at the four adults, Mrs Malfoy started to scream as her husband's face reddened and his eyes began to look like they might pop out of his head.

"Please stop sir! PLEASE!" And she frantically began to grope at the light around his neck, sobbing hysterically.

"_Silencio_", the man hissed and Mrs Malfoy's wailing immediately stopped. She grasped at her own throat as no sound came out, looking around the room fearfully and then carried on trying to help her husband, who still was making sickening gagging sounds. Bella's father was gripping his chair so hard it was making his knuckles white, trying not to lose control of himself. Only her mother seemed unperturbed, but avoided looking at her struggling guest.

"I no longer have _muggle_ lineage," he spat and the light again seemed to tighten. "I saw to it myself! And with that no _filthy_ blood. I, in whose veins run the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself! I opened the chamber, releasing the horror within, killing some mudblood scum, and _only_ the Heir of Slytherin could possibly do that! Who are you to doubt me Malfoy?! Who are you to doubt _me?!_" He began to laugh manically at this as Malfoy began to cough, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth, choking him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, the whites seeming to bulge out of his skull —

"RELEASE HIM!" Her father yelled suddenly at Riddle, who merely looked at back at him quizzically, almost amused that he was being given an order, then looking back at Malfoy who was now twitching repulsively on his chair, his hands still trying weakly to release the green bond around his throat. Riddle lowered his wand, muttering under his breath and the green light disintegrated into dust, leaving a repulsive, red-purple line where it had been. Mr Malfoy fell to the floor, his wife looking down at him, too scared to do anything. Bella's father then pointed his own wand at her throat and the sound of her shaky, fast breathing returned. She clutched her neck again, looked across at the Blacks and fell off her chair in a dead faint. Mrs Black looked down in disgust at her guests, and touched her hair slightly with a shaking hand.

"Is he dead Riddle?" Bella's father breathed, his eyes wide staring down at the man, before continuing franticly. "Because if so, it's a very big mistake…lots of questions at the ministry — what am I supposed to say about this one? And also this man could have be very useful to the cause, he is the richest wizard in England —" 

"He's not dead" said Riddle softly. It was a deadly voice. "Revive him and his wife, I have more to say to you all." 

Her father got up from his seat, showing an obedience that was chilling to see from one of the most important wizards in England. He bent down over the two Malfoy's, although from Bella's hiding place she couldn't see what was happening, but she heard them both stir. Riddle, impatient, then levitated them back to their seats. Mr Malfoy seemed to have some sort of invisible head bond which kept his head looking at the visitor. Mrs Malfoy trembled, her hair falling out of her tight bun.

"Listen to me Malfoy; move your hand to show me you can hear…"

With immense difficulty, Malfoy moved his hand, his eyes closed with pain and effort.

"Good" Riddle muttered. He again raised his wand and everyone around the table flinched. He laughed softly and waved it so the words _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ appeared in the air in black smoke.

"This name no longer has any meaning to me. Anyone who uses this again I will kill. This is my name and every wizard and witch in this world will come to fear it. He waved his wand again and the letters rearranged themselves to form:

_I Am Lord Voldemort_

He watched the words hover there for a while, and then turned to survey the four people in the room as they sat, as if frozen, in their chairs. He waved his wand again and muttered something. The words disappeared, but out of his wand erupted a shower of emerald sparks, glittering and blazing, finally arranging themselves into the outline of giant skull, and through its slightly parted mouth protruded a green serpent. It hovered above the table, glittering as if made from green stars. Mrs Malfoy gave a little whimper and Bella's mother gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. Her father started in his chair, gazing at the image as if mesmerized.

"Grindlewald…" he murmured.

"Not quite, not quite," The man said faintly, staring at the apparition with a look that was almost loving. "The skull, yes, it _was_ his mark wasn't it? Rather…crude on its own. But I've added my own touch as Slytherin's heir; the green snake. You see, they will fear this mark more than they did Grindlewald's; just as they will all fear me." He paused again for effect. "It will soon be time for a new age in the wizarding world. You know what is needed and I know you want it! We must rid it of muggle and mudblood dirt and replace it with a blood that is pure! For too long our fathers and forefathers have stood for this, but no more! I stand for a better world, for us and your children. Will you join and aid me so this can happen?!"

Before anyone could answer there was sudden creek at the door. Four heads spun around and the stranger sharply pointed his wand at the door which opened violently to reveal a shaking Bellatrix, mesmerised and rooted to the spot.

"_Bella…_" gasped her mother and got up immediately, walking towards her. Bella had been too shaken to run or move or do anything. She couldn't believe what she had witnessed. Her parents had been scared, really scared, of this man, and he had managed to almost throttle Mr Malfoy at her father's table. She had been entranced and sickened by this, and had bitten her hand so she hadn't screamed. She now had blood running down her arm but she didn't notice. Bella stared into the stranger's face and their eyes met for one moment, sending an icy fire through her body. She then watched him turn away and mutter to her father, "Your house is surrounded Black…You and Malfoy have no other choice."

She had hardly felt her mother drag her up the stairs to her bedroom. She had just silently got into bed. She had heard her mother say that she must not speak a word to anyone of what she had just beheld, while she was dabbing away at her hand with some cloth. Bella had just lain there, staring up at the high beamed ceiling, hand outstretched, while her mother healed it with her wand. She saw her mother get up and she told her daughter to get some sleep. She heard her mutter to the maids outside to keep an eye on her while she slept, and if there was a problem to call on her. And then she left.

Bella watched her shadow retreat down the hallway, and heard the maids whispering to each other frantically outside her door. _Lord Voldemort_, she thought to herself, looking at the canapé above her head unblinkingly. _That had been his name hadn't it?_ She tried to say it out loud but was too frightened to. He had asked her family to join him…or die. Bella suddenly thought she was going to be sick and sat up. Her father would say yes, wouldn't he? He would join him; he wasn't going to be killed was he? Because if he's killed, I'm dead too. She shut her eyes and imagined being strangled by that green light. Bella gulped, her hands shaking. _She_ would join him; _she_ wouldn't die. What had he said about muggles, and mudbloods? He had been so powerful standing there, like he had no fear, like he knew no one in that room could even lay a spell on him. She then remembered what he had said about her house being surrounded and jumped out of bed, softly tip-toeing across her bedroom floor to the doors to her balcony. She tried the brass handle to check they were locked, and pulled the two embroidered, luxurious curtains shut. Frantically biting her nail, she looked around her room into the shadows. She hadn't been this scared since someone had told her about the Grim, and she thought it had been under her bed. She had driven her mother mad, until finally she had given Bella a sleeping draught to make her stop screaming out.

Bella didn't dare go and find her this time. She was itching to know what was going on downstairs. Maybe if she could slip by the maids…No that was no good, even if she did get past them, charms and spells would have been put around the dining room entrances to stop people listening by now. She got back into bed reluctantly, and lay there, not daring to close her eyes as Abraxas Malfoy's choking face was still on her mind. The stranger's voice played in her head like a faulty wireless, "_This name no longer has any meaning to me…replace it with a blood that is pure…I stand for a better world… I am Lord Voldemort…_" until she gradually began to sleep, breathing softly, unaware of the dealings going on in another part of her house.


	3. Birth of Andromeda

Although the sweeping lawns of Black Mansion shone an emerald green in the sunlight, it was as if a dark shadow had been cast over the house. In that past month the mood had become tense and uneasy, as if everyone was unsure of what would happen next. Dark conversations and whispers filled every room. Horrifying rumours spread amongst the servants; many had tried to resign but had disappeared ominously after a few days. They knew too much. The maids were so fearful that they made themselves as scarce as possible, and if they did any work they were generally useless. Bellatrix witnessed many hushed conversations between her parents, mutterings referring to the "Dark Lord", deaths and disappearances. Her father's normally rugged, handsome face was strained and pale. She noticed that he was hardly ever home anymore, not that she had ever seen much of him; he would usually work in his study, or would be away on business at the ministry. Now however the torches rarely burned in his room, and there was often an empty seat at meal times. Her mother, who in the first week had eagerly involved herself with her usual vigour and passion, had lost all her energy due to the pregnancy and had taken to her bedroom, seeing no one except Healer Crouch. No one was around; it was as if the house was empty. Empty, except for an eerie quiet that filled the halls and the rooms, but felt louder than if someone had been screaming.

Bellatrix however, loved it. She loved the noiseless chaos amongst the servants, the silence in the halls, and the anxiety between her parents. And the recent arrangement of her mother's seemed almost perfect. She could stay outside for as long as she wanted, she didn't have to worry about dressing nicely for visitors or learning to sew and embroider things like her mother wanted. Her Ayah was supposed to be looking after her, but had never tried before and was definitely not going to while her employer was locked inside her bedroom, being given every health potion that had ever been invented. Bella had thought of poisoning one of them so that her mother would die and never come out; the thought of having free reign of the Mansion forever was enticing, but she still hadn't figured out how to open the cupboard that she knew contained poison without a wand. She could never do magic when she wanted to, it only happened at the most peculiar times when she was feeling particularly rebellious and devious. There was the time when she had been hiding from her maid Isabel under her bed, as she did not want to see her father. Bella had managed to set her hair on fire when she had been found. They had been beautiful green flames and she had then been so overjoyed she had stopped yelling and laughed, wide eyed in amazement, even as the maid had shrieked and cried in fright before her. Three other maids had run in to put it out but not before her father had seen from the doorway, smiled at his young daughter for a moment, and then walked away.

But Bellatrix had not forgotten that night when the Dark Lord had arrived. His face was always there in her dreams where she always would catch glimpses of him in the forest by her house. She would see his face for a second through the leaves and the blackness of the night and then he would disappear. She would run as fast as she could to get to that spot where he had stood but could never get any closer to him. He was always just out of reach. Bella had developed a hatred for her father, for she was sure he was with him all the time and she wasn't. She hated being six years old too. She wanted to grow up so desperately, and would vent her frustration by going on hunts in the wood for gnomes and pixies, and if she caught them, she would pull out their limbs and then leave them to die. She especially liked to do this to the pixies as they seemed more human than the grubby, potato-like gnomes. They were also harder to catch. Today, she was on one of her hunts.

Bellatrix crouched low behind a tree, silent, hardly breathing. She had become slightly wild over the few weeks she had been left alone, pupils dilated, her hair knotted with bits of twig and heather entwined into its blackness. She had purposely ripped her black robes so they came above the knee and so were less restricting, the rest of them had been torn, so that bits of her skin showed through. Her knees were scabbed and bloody, her face smeared with dirt and grime. Her fingernails had a mixture of soil and blood underneath them. She had also dropped weight dramatically but none of this mattered to the little girl. The only thing that was on her mind were the flashes of electric blue that she could see from her hiding place as they darted near their nest at the bottom of the great oak. Bella knew where to find them. They were always out at dusk, _like gnats_, she told herself viciously. She silently slithered round the tree on her stomach so she could get closer without being seen by them. The earth didn't give her away. Although wingless the pixies could fly and they hovered about a foot off the ground, doing some kind of ritualised dance. Bella noticed some smaller ones closer to her that seemed to be paying less attention; their young.

Like lightening Bella managed to jump up and snatch three of them at the same time. This was where the fun started. She gleefully sprinted away, shrieking with manic laughter as the pixies tried to figure out what had just happened and what they should do next. Bella knew from experience this would take them a few seconds before they realised that they should be flying after her, and by this time she was already away. She knew she had to get beyond the edge of the wood to the lake before they would stop pursuing her, and it was always uncertain whether she would get there in time. She looked over her shoulder as she ran, feeling that addictive exhilaration and excitement she constantly craved for. She was running so fast she almost fell over as the brilliant blue forms got ever closer. She could see the edge of the wood in front of her and knew they had no chance of catching her this time, like always. She flung herself out of the trees, actually rolling along the ground for a second until she reached the edge of the lake. She watched the blue forms reach the edge of the forest and then stop, waiting as if she would come back into the forest. Bella never questioned why they stopped there; it was some unknown mystery that didn't bother her. She simply accepted it.

Bella lay on the ground breathing heavily, the pixies still held tightly in her hand. She could feel a slight stirring movement tickling her palm, but her strong grip ensured they had no way of getting out. The other pixies looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for her to give back their young, she merely giggled at them. They seemed to droop, defeated as she had beaten them again, and started to fly back into the forest slowly, and Bella, through squinted eyes, watched them hover back until she couldn't make out their blue glowing bodies. She opened her hand slightly to view her capture.

"Hello, ickle bittie ones, your Miss Bella's now. Did you not see how they all went away and left you here." She said this with an odd babyish chattering. Recently, she had taken to talking to her victims. The pixies were oddly crumpled in her palm, their usually vivid blue light dimming. One still had the strength to bite her but it was the last thing it did. In her anger Bella shrieked and threw it to the ground hard; its blue light went out as its head connected with a stone.

"You will both suffer for that, you will, did you see what it did?" She bent down to pick up a stone when she saw a large shadow loom up from behind her. She turned round sharply, hiding the pixies behind her back.

"Bellatrix?" It was her father.

"So this is where you hide is it?" She did not answer him but moved her foot over the dead pixie on the ground to cover it.

Her father looked around, bemusedly, frowning slightly, until his gaze once again fell upon his daughter. It seemed to take him a while to discern the little girl's wild appearance, her muddy face and matted hair, torn robes and bleeding knees. He looked into her eyes only to find them unfathomable, dark brown and heavy lidded, like his own, set in a face etched with a scowl. He shook his head.

"I don't understand you Bella, most little girls would be looking after their mothers at a time like this, and instead I find you here of all places, in what seems to be a grave yard for pests…" She shifted, uncomfortably, _he won't realise_, she assured herself, _and he's too concerned with something else_…

"Where is your Ayah?"

She shrugged in response.

"Don't shrug like that in reply to a question from your father, answer me properly."

"I don't know." She said, through gritted teeth, annoyed that he was telling her what to do.

He raised an eyebrow. "If your mother saw you Bella — what have you got in your hands?"

"Nothing-"

"-Don't lie to me, what have you got in your hands?"

She squirmed, beneath his challenging gaze, "I don't have anything."

He reached out grabbing her arm pulling it towards him, tried to stop him but her Father was far too strong, and as he grabbed her wrist she was forced to let the two remaining pixies fall into his outstretched palm.

"What in the name of…Bella did you catch these yourself?"

She couldn't read his expression, she couldn't tell if he was angry or not.

"Yes."

He looked around again, realisation dawning on him. "My word…"

To Bella's complete surprise he then smiled slightly.

"Perhaps I have underestimated you then Bella," he said more to himself than to her, "but why on earth have you not used the jarveys, or at least took the crups with you…" He shook his head again and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again he was his usual stern self.  
"Your mother would not be pleased at all Bella, your appearance could possibly take her to an early grave…Well I've come to find you because I need you inside at once-"

"Why?"

He didn't answer her immediately; instead he looked up to the darkening sky. "It's not safe for a young child to be out…At least it's not quite full moon yet but still…" He said looking around warily into the gathering gloom. "Also, the baby is coming."

Bella tapped softly on the dining hall table with a silver knife, part of the intricate dinner set out that was done by the house elves each day. She had been shut inside while everyone else was upstairs, dealing with the birth. She kept hearing screams of pain and effort, and each time she heard them she chuckled softly. Bellatrix looked so different to what she had done about an hour ago, when she had been found by the lake. She had been dressed in new robes of a deep blue, and her hair had been washed and brushed so it fell in waves of the darkest brown down her back. Her father had insisted that the maids were to wash and dress her before the baby arrived. She chuckled again as she remembered how angry he had been with them, and how much she had tormented her Ayah.

"Papa was angwy wiv you…" Bella said to her Ayah, in her sing-song baby voice, as her fingers teased through Bella's hair with "Rose Rouge Breuvages Magiques — Pour les Cheveux", a line of French beauty product her Mother was obsessed with; Red Rose Potions. Even Bella admitted it smelled beautiful and when it connected with the water in the bath tub it turned into perfect rose petals. Her Ayah however, was washing her hair with trembling hands, shivering slightly even though it was warm in the bathroom, and not paying the slightest bit of attention to the rose petals that pleased Bella.

"You should have been looking after ickle Bewatwix …" She giggled and then stopped abruptly, looking deadly serious at the girl who really was not that much older than her. "You know what has been happening to all the servants? Maybe I should tell you; maybe it is going to happen to you-"

She was stopped by a small noise from the Ayah, shaking her head, willing the little girl to stop, her eyes glistening with fear. Bella gave her a nasty little grin.

"I don't think you can leave, can you? But if you cannot leave…what will my Father do? He might make it a quick death, and then feed your body to the crups. I want it to be nice and slow, painful-"

At this, the Ayah ran from the bathroom, sobbing, Bella's wicked grin followed her out and the other maids had to finish bathing her, exchanging anxious, tearful looks. How could a young girl of six be so cruel?

Bella banged her feet on the grey flagstones under the dining room table and watched the agitated portraits of her ancestors, exchanging excited whispers. Even the figures in the giant tapestry were moving more than usual. She fidgeted with boredom and anger. Another scream from upstairs punctured her thoughts. _Oh let them both die_, she thought furiously. She wished her mother would hurry up and have the stupid thing soon; she didn't feel like sitting here much longer. She busied herself with trying to set fire to the huge table but nothing happened. Bella closed her eyes with an irritated sigh, head propped on her elbow, with her ebony hair flowing over her face. The sweet smell of the shampoo filled her nose and she felt herself falling into a slumber.

Three huge bangs on the entrance door brought her back to her senses abruptly. Her father would surely hear and answer it. She waited a few moments, even the portraits had stopped moving. Another bang. Should she answer it? The young girl slipped off her chair moving cautiously into the entrance hall. Her Father had told her explicitly not to answer the door to anyone, but she almost felt drawn to it somehow. Was she going to disobey her father's order? Even though she was still debating it in her mind she stepped forward silently until she reached the door. Almost without thinking Bella started to wrench back the bolt, standing on tiptoe as it was above her head. It clicked as it came out of the hole and she stood back. Purple sparks flew around the edge of the door as the spells which sealed it were undone. Bellatrix pulled back the door and her breath caught in her throat. It was _him_.

She could just tell it was him even though as she looked up his face was in shadow under his hooded cloak. Maybe it was something about the way her heart was thudding inside her chest or the prickle as her hair all over her body stood on end she didn't know. It was as if his power radiated from him and she felt every wave with each heart beat.

"Good Evening little girl." His voice was soft and calm but still so deadly. Bellatrix couldn't bring herself to reply she merely continued to gaze up at him. He pulled his hood back and the moonlight fell upon his face. One eyebrow was raised as he looked down at Bella for a moment before sweeping past, his cloak grazing her cheek which made her heart stop for a second. He stopped in the centre of the hall and elegantly flicked his wand at the door and it shut silently.

"Where is your father?" He asked without looking at her. There was a sudden scream from upstairs.

"Aha," he said quietly, "so that is why he was not at my meeting tonight."

Bellatrix stood mutely in the doorway. She suddenly felt so angry at her father for deserting him. How dare he!? She would never have left his side she was certain.  
"This will not go unpunished." He had been watching her with a hungry look of interest on his face.

"So little girl," he walked towards her. "Would he regret it if I killed you, as he appears to value his children so much?" His wand was under her chin lifting her face towards his. Bellatrix felt so utterly powerless. He could kill her right now and it would be all her father's fault that she would never be able to serve him. Bella started to shake with fear as she stared into his black eyes until a flash of red passed through them and she snapped her own shut, screwing up her face, waiting for the worst. She was as helpless in front of him as any of her own prey. Unexpectedly, Bella felt his wand leave her throat and she gasped audibly as the relief flooded through her. She opened her eyes again to see a twisted smile upon his face. He began to speak to her in his soft, deadly voice.

"Why are you not screaming and crying like other little girls would, Miss Black? Do you think I could not kill a defenceless young witch —

A horrified gasp of "-_No!_" came from the foot of the stairs. It was her father "My Lord, forgive me, I -"

"_Silence!_" Lord Voldemort snapped round to face him.

With a single twitch of the Dark Lord's outstretched wand, Bella's father fell to his knees. She noticed his face, distorted in terror. It reminded her sharply of the pixies when she had caught them.

"You disobeyed me, Cygnus." He hissed with a voice now harsh and chilling. He continued through gritted teeth with a grimace of rage. "You know what happens to my followers when they disobey me." 

Her father began to tremble and sob violently. "No my Lord, please-please no, forgive me, forgive me please - my second child -"

Bella could only watch the repulsive sight of her father in horror and excitement, waiting for what was to happen to him. 

"You did not arrive at the gathering of my followers, Black. Instead you came to see your children." The Dark Lord stepped forward and grasped Cygnus' chin violently, forcing his head upwards to look at his face.

"Do you, therefore, value them above me?! Your master the Dark Lord, the one you swore your loyalty to?! _The greatest wizard that has ever lived?!_" he snarled. The same red gleam passed over the Dark Lords face as he raised his wand towards his victims face. Her father's eyes closed and there was silence until he gasped "M-my Lord, B-Bellatrix!"

The Dark Lord turned towards Bella, his wand not leaving her father, and scanned her face with narrowed, deep black eyes. Bella thought she saw a faint smile pass over his lips before he disappeared with a loud crack, along with her father. She sank to the floor in disbelief and shock. Her head was swimming, so she bit her lip hard to stop herself fainting. The taste of her own blood brought her to her senses. The only sounds were the excited beating of her heart and the urgent murmering of the portraits in the hall. He had been so close to her, acknowledged her. She pushed the thought of her father out of her mind. What was it that was going to happen to him that was so awful that she couldn't see? She calmed herself by thinking about all the terrible things the Dark Lord would do to a disloyal follower; _chop off his hands, pull out his insides, burn him_-

"Miss Black, are you all right?"

Bella looked up sharply to see her Ayah standing over her.

"Get away from me!" She screamed, watching the girl recoil back from her.

"But, miss, your mother, she's asking for you, the-the baby-"

"I said, GET AWAY! _WHORE!_"

The maid whimpered and ran back up the stairs and Bella pulled herself up laughing softly to herself. She loved tormenting her. However the disappointment had already started to flow through her. Bella's mother and new sibling were both alive. She had been so sure they would die. As she dragged herself up to her mother's chamber, Bella wondered what her mother would say when her husband didn't return home. She imagined that the Dark Lord would kill him eventually. Maybe they would recieve his ,i head through the door. Bella realised she was still shaking. _Why had he not killed her?_ She stopped outside her mother's door, a sudden shocking thought disturbing her. _The Dark Lord would not know, or understand that she agreed with the her father's punishment; he come back and kill them all, the Black family would be in disgrace_-

"I told you to bring my daughter upstairs! Are you so incompetent that you can't even follow a simple order you dithering slut! Bring her upstairs! _Now!_"

The door flew open and the pale, panicked face of her Ayah appeared. Bella pushed by her to see her mother sweaty and tired looking, her hair matted, holding a bundle of blankets in her arms. Healer Crouch stood in the corner, packing away his instruments. Her face looked at the bundle with an indifferent expression, and she held it forward to Bellatrix. Warily Bella took hold of it, and looked down on the new baby with a frown and a grimace. She saw a pink fleshy blob, with a smattering of soft brown hair.

"I hate it, it's _hideous!_" she said thrusting it back towards her mother, who smiled calmly at Bella, and chuckled hollowly.

"_It_ is your new little sister Bella so I suggest you treat her as such. Your father and I are calling her Andromeda. Here Dr, take her, I need rest." Her Mother passed the baby to Healer Crouch, who surveyed the tiny bundle passively.

"It's a shame that she wasn't the son you and Cygnus were expecting, Druella, especially after such a difficult birth."  
"Indeed Crouch." answered her mother impatiently, "Just deal with her please."

Bella stayed just long enough to see her lowered into her old cradle, Healer Crouch muttering something and tapping it with his wand.

"An advanced new spell — keeps the diseases and baby-snatching imps away from it for the first night - …"

Bella slammed the door of the chamber. It stank of blood, sweat and body odour. She hated the arrival of a little sister more than anything and she scowled darkly. She liked being the only Miss Black, youngest member of her noble and most ancient family as her father had reminded her countless times. Her mother's tiresome voice rang through the hall, addressing the maids.

"Remember, if this baby starts crying I want it taken out of my bedroom and given straight to the new…_wetnurse_." The disgust in her voice was audible. "There will be serious punishments if I get a disrupted night…"

As Bella walked away her mother's voice became fainter. She hadn't asked about Bella's father, perhaps she knew. Bella felt weak and needed to go to bed. It was then that the baby's scream pierced the hall. Bella stuffed her fingers in her ears and started to sprint towards her bedroom. As she slammed the door she vowed that she would make her new sisters life a total misery. "Stupid little brat." She whispered fiercely to herself.

Screams echoed through the dark night, seeming to come from everywhere. There were no houses around, only desolate moorland. A strange hooded figure loped up a hill towards a copse, stopping to sniff the air as if he could smell the fear. He gave a hoarse, growling laugh and continued to run into the trees. The screams grew louder as the hooded figure approached the centre of the wood where a turquoise light was flickering. A group of silhouetted people stood in circle, some of their faces lit up with a greenish light from the fire. A man was writhing, and screaming in pain in the centre of them. The hooded figure crept up to one of them who was leaning against a tree and watching the spectacle. He threw himself on the floor before him. 

"Get up, Fenrir," said a cold voice.

Fenrir heaved himself to his feet and pulled back his hood to reveal disgusting, matted grey hair. He was a rangy man almost twice as wide as the figure before him and his eyes twitched convulsively.

"I've come back from Black's house my Lord…" He said breathing hard.

"I'm aware of that, Greyback," The man answered indolently, still watching the scene next to him, the man crying out louder than ever.

"_Do I still get to rip his brat apart tomorrow night?_" Greyback snarled suddenly, jerking his head towards the man in the centre, his slitted eyes widening at the thought.

"No. My plans have changed somewhat since my visit to his house. He won't disobey me again."

Fenrir Greyback growled loudly, clenching his fists together tightly so his bones cracked and his long yellow nails dug into his palms.

"She'd have made an excellent werewolf…" he said, starting to lick his own blood off his hands obscenely.

Lord Voldemort turned to face him, his hood covering his eyes in shadow, but a smile played on his lips.

"Indeed she would, Fenrir, but," his smile widened, "she will make a better Death Eater. I have plans for you that will more than satisfy your cravings tomorrow night." He turned to the figures surrounding Cygnus Black and yelled, "Enough Fools!" They lowered their wands immediately and the screaming stopped. "I still want his mind intact after tonight, not that any of you have a strong enough cruciatus curse to break it…" He stepped forward towards Cygnus, kneeling down beside his quivering body. His long fingers stroked back his hair, and he bent down to whisper in his ear.

"I hope this was a lesson to you Black. The Dark Lord does not tolerate disobedience, you know what will happen next time…"

He stepped back and addressed his Death Eaters. "You can go back to your families. You will feel it burn when I need you again."

They all knelt at his feet one by one and kissed the hem of his robes, murmuring "Thank you my Lord…we will my Lord," before dissapparating. Black staggered towards him last of all and threw himself at his feet.

"You are merciful my Lord, thank you…_thank you_. I will never disobey you again." He too dissapparated with a loud crack.

The Dark Lord stood in the clearing, staring into the raging fire. He had found another child who was perfect. He had looked into her mind and liked what he had seen. Loyalty, obsession, ruthlessness. When she had closed her eyes the shadow of a skull had passed over her face. _Yes_, he thought to himself, _this one will give up everything for me._


	4. The Christening of Her First Cousin

He had beautiful tiny little hands, with perfect fingernails that clenched around two of her fingers. He was sleeping, and his tiny head turned slightly in his cot. His smattering of jet black hair contrasted sharply with the brilliant white of his christening robes, and Bellatrix breathed in sharply, noticing his hair colour was the same as her own.

"He's beautiful Auntie," She whispered to the grand figure next to her.

"Yes indeed, a perfect little Black. You looked identical when you were born."

"Sirius," she breathed, looking over him once more. She had never bothered herself with Andromeda, who she considered to have ruined her life, crying constantly, having to share their father's limited attention between them. Above all however, it was her mother's new attitude to her that perturbed her the most. She had put Bella under a strict tutorship, and she was barely allowed out of her mother's sight since the incident at her younger sister's birth. Bellatrix had therefore taken it upon herself to upset the despised Andromeda as much as she possibly could. Her parents merely took it as usual sister animosity.

As Bella hung her head into the cot she caught a smell of the infusions they had used at the christening, sharp but comfortingly familiar. The whole family had been there, even the ones like old Belvina Burke who could only dribble and grunt in apparent recognition. It had been a beautiful ceremony, the huge hall was decorated with hundreds of candles; everyone had been dressed in white robes. Black Hall was always used for these occasions, as it had been for many centuries. It was much like the inside of a church and indeed that had been the pretence hundreds of years ago, when many of their family could have been caught and persecuted for their practise of magic. However it was not the religious images of muggles that were depicted in the stained glass windows, but the faces of ancient wizards, long dead, including Merlin and the founder of their family, Orion of Black. The colours of the windows would also change, merging between reds, yellows, oranges and blues hypnotically, as if a trick of the candle light, but if Bellatrix watched carefully, she could see the outlines of the sorcerers move. There were also carvings in the stone walls, gargoyles and dragons, strange faces in the beams. These wooden beams were draped in the same white cloth the family wore, embroidered in gold with the Black family crest fluttering in a magical breeze.

The family were sitting in dark wooden pews arranged in two halves divided by an aisle down the centre which was decorated with more candles floating in the air. This was where the procession walked with the baby held high by the acting head of the family. Today it had been Bellatrix's father Cygnus. The ancient christening robes were long and flowing so that they reached the floor but were still a pure glowing white, even after all their years of use. Bella's aunt and uncle, the mother and father of the child, walked behind him; heads bowed and hooded, their own white robes also dragging behind them. Around their necks hung a ring of blood red rubies that glinted astonishingly in the candle light. The oldest member of the family able to walk was behind them (Arcturus was something like Bellatrix's great-great uncle once removed), and contrasted sharply with the rest of the family as the only member wearing black. They walked to a solemn beat of faint, haunting music, which Bella could never quite place.

When they reached the front Bella's father knelt to put the baby into the cot below him, wrapping the robes around the baby. He then stood to face the family, standing behind the cot while the parents, Walpurga and Orion, went to separate sides of him. Arcturus then joined the front row. Her father then started to speak in Latin, mixed with some French. Bella let the words wash over her, she understood some of it, but was waiting for her favourite part of the ceremony to be performed. Her breath caught in her throat as her father then produced his wand, ready to name him. Walpurga, her aunt then knelt in front of the cradle and Bella's father raised his wand. As she spoke his name everyone heard her voice magnified and echoing around them.

"_Sirius"_

A flash of dark blue light rippled like cloth from Cygnus' wand and wrapped itself around the cot, hovered there for a few seconds then disappeared. There was a hush in the room, the late Sirius had recently been deceased, but the name was the obvious choice for his great-grandson.

Bellatrix's own mother then made her way silently to the front and Arcturus got to his feet again. Her parents and her aunt and uncle then knelt around the cradle and joined hands, heads still bowed. Her mother's fair hair looked misplaced among the sea of jet black, her distinctive Rosier family feature. The glistening rubies around the necks of Sirius's parents matched the cloth wrapped around the cradle perfectly, forming a deep red, visual bond between both parents and their child. Arcturus now raised his wand high above them and a sheer darkness fell in the hall, the haunting call of the music also stopped and everything was still as Godfather and Godmother were proclaimed. White light shot with a crackle from Arcturus' wand, swirling high above the cradle until it wrapped itself around the enjoined hands of the four adults, rope-like, licking at their wrists turning into brilliant pale flames until a great gust of screaming wind swirled around the four adults, their hair fluttering madly, putting out the fire and relighting the candles in the room. Calm settled again amongst those in the room and everyone started clapping enthusiastically at what they had just witnessed. As this happened, Arcturus silently turned to finish the christening by putting his hand into a small fountain behind him and brushed some of the water onto Sirius' head as Walpurga held up her son.

As the ceremony had finished everyone had queued up to see the little boy, the first male in the generation, the youngest member of the Black family. Some knelt beside the cot and touched him affectionately, as if for good fortune, others simply smiled down and nodded, then turned to congratulate Walpurga and Orion on such a perfect baby Black. Bella had watched begrudgingly from her seat as each member acknowledged her cousin and then drifted out of the hall. When everyone, including her parents, had left, her aunt had called her over and Bellatrix had then wandered up towards the cradle to see her baby cousin for herself.

She poked the baby softly and to her delight he opened his eyes. They were a soft charcoal grey and when they creased as he giggled Bella felt a sharp tinge of pleasure.

"His eyes aren't like mine though," She stated, frowning slightly.

"No, no they're not." Her aunt's stern voice echoed in the huge hall, high beamed and spacious. "They are the eyes of his ancestors, of the ancient race of Blacks." Her voice licked with pride and she looked down at the little girl below her through her own heavy-lidded eyes. "Come Bellatrix, let me show you."

She steered her niece away from her son towards a dimly lit corridor to the left of the hall. Bella glanced back at the ornate cot, beautiful carved mahogany, the Black crest embossed on the side, with the blood red velvet cloth, embroidered with gold, swathed around it. It was as if someone had breathed the family motto into her ear; '_Toujours Pur'. _Bella shuddered with pleasure and quickly looked away as they entered the corridor.

"I know you have seen the family tree before Bellatrix, but I don't believe you have ever looked upon their faces." Her rasping voice grated the stillness of the corridor.

Bella gasped and quickly bit her finger to silence herself as she looked before her. Each side of the corridor was lined with portraits, some muttering and whispering, others merely staring and some with no occupants at all. The hallway was lit by flickering blue flames and so the whole experience felt eerily surreal. She looked up at Walpurga who seemed to glow in the torch light, as if she too was also one of the many painted faces. Walpurga was no beauty, but her regal quality and sureness of stance made her striking. She had all the typical features of a pure blood Black, but it was if they were distorted in some awful manner which couldn't quite be placed.

"Your father's portrait will hang here," she pointed with a long finger to a gold engraved plaque which read;

_Cygnus Black_

_ 1914 – _

"Your uncle's opposite, and mine just here. Your portrait will be here someday Bellatrix, as will Sirius's."

"Mine?"

"Oh yes indeed! But will you be remembered as some have been? Will your Black descendents think to mention you when they look upon your face? You have been given her face but will you ever become as legendary to us as she is?"

"Who's face Auntie?" Bellatrix felt her heart thud in her chest as Walpurga's words washed over her, as if reaching into her very soul.

"You will see."

They continued down the hall, some portraits raising eyebrows at her, others merely blinking. She recognised some family members as they had been at the christening, and one or two because their portraits also hung at Black Mansion. Her aunt stopped again and turned towards a portrait.

"Ah Phineas, you decided to join us after all."

The man in the portrait grinned slyly at her before turning to look at Bella.

"I wouldn't miss this little Black beauty for anything," he said after a pause. "They're quite a generation this time; they have the quality of those Blacks of old." The man in the portrait stroked his black beard thoughtfully, before looking sharply back at Walpurga. "It's almost as if something is signalled to happen to them, perhaps they will be the…ah…_saviours_ of us all." He chuckled darkly as Walpurga nodded at the portrait and led Bellatrix away.

His voice called out again almost muffled and faded. "Shake up Hogwarts when you go little Bella… perhaps they've all been getting too comfortable since that Chamber was closed…"

The air began to grow cool, and there was a breeze even though they were deep inside. It prickled the back of Bella's neck and she breathed in deeply as if to taste and smell the magic in the air. She jumped as she heard a soft giggle, and thought she saw a shadow pass across the wall. Walpurga merely smiled; her expression hardening.

"They are expecting us."

Bellatrix felt a wave of apprehension and excitement pass through her body as the corridor opened out into a spacious room with a high ceiling, portraits covering the walls, the whispering of them almost a din in her ears. There was a huge Black family crest in front of her, made from solid silver, gold and wood. The whole room was brightly lit with four burning pillars in each corner of the room, contrasting sharply with the muted light in the corridor, and she grimaced as it hurt her eyes. The whole room shimmered and flowed with light as if in some underwater world and she could feel the tingling through her body of deep, old magic in the air. She breathed it in deeply and looked up at the central portrait.

"Orion Black", stated her Aunt's narrative voice. "Kneel in respect for your Ancestor, child".

The young girl felt the strength of her legs give way as she almost fell to the floor, overawed, almost scared. Dark faces stared down at her from their immortal paintings, some blinking, some with there lips curled in superior smiles. Some moved in a creepy sporadic manner and Bellatrix could hear that soft giggle from time to time which she was sure did not come from her Aunt. The largest portrait of Orion Black kept her gaze. His soft grey eyes looked upon her knowingly but it was not him that drew her attention. In the painting by his knee was a young girl, hardly older than herself and almost identical to her in everyway, from her tightly clenched jaw to the iron cold stare from heavy lidded eyes. The only difference was the colour; they were a deep charcoal grey, those of her new cousin's, shared by the girl's father in the portrait. She gasped and gritted her teeth. The figures in the portraits moved sporadically, drifting out of one frame and appearing in another at random. Bellatrix's eyes followed the young girl who looked like her. Sometimes she peeked around the frames, other times she actually sat down in the portraits watching Bella with an identical hard gaze.

Her Aunt watched her young niece with some kind of fierce pleasure. She could remember the overwhelming feeling herself when she had first been brought here, the realisation of the true importance of her family, of her blood, pure and full of magic. And she knew it was the most important thing for the small girl next to her to know and understand like the rest of them.

"Come and look at this one Bellatrix" she commanded, and she walked purposely towards a small frame in the corner of the room, bare in comparison to the ornate frames of the others. Bella followed obediently, but what she saw when she reached the portrait made her wish she had not.

Bellatrix gasped, she couldn't help it.

A figure was being burned at a stake in the picture, yellow flames licking at the skin of its victim, eating at the flesh. The figure's head was tossed back as the blaze ignited her long, black hair. Bellatrix gazed wide-eyed at the expression on the woman as she wasn't sure whether she was laughing or screaming. She read the plaque beneath the picture which read in gold lettering:

'_The Martyrdome of Bellatrix of Black'_

Bellatrix almost felt she could hear her calling out and the fact she shared this girl's name shocked her as little could it shocked her as little could.

"She was really _burned_ then Auntie?"

"Yes," her aunt replied in an unnaturally soft voice. "It was the 13th century and they hadn't yet invented the Flame-freezing charm. She suffered at the hands of _filth_ like no witch of the pure blood should. The great Orion's own _daughter…_"

Walpurga said this more to herself, Bellatrix thought, than to her.

"And this is the same person as the girl who looks like me?" Bella gasped, looking around at the other portraits

"I'm afraid that is correct, but remember she was a legend even when she lived, one of the most powerful witches of the time, and died a martyr. You should feel privileged to share in her name – your father's magnificent choice of course. Her portrait should hang somewhere in your house, empty for some time I believe. I would have expected you to have seen the plaque although... I suppose it is not obvious. Maybe now you have visited her she will now visit you…

"Anyway," she continued in a very different, brisk manner. "It's time we got you back to Grimmauld Place, there's a Christening party that I am supposed to be hosting. We will have to go through the other fireplace though I'm afraid; this one is fortunately not connected to the Floo network."

Bellatrix took one last look at the room, her head full of half terrible sadness, half a burning hatred for the muggles that also inhabited her world, before being swept away by her Aunt. She scowled darkly at the thought of the party that awaited them.

Bellatrix stepped delicately out of the fireplace when she arrived, to see the sitting room full of people. She stood aside to allow her Aunt through who disappeared into the crowd of relatives without a backward glance at her niece who waited expectantly. Bella sighed as she looked around the room and her Uncle Alphard patted her on the head and admired her for being 'A very pretty little thing,' while old Belvina Burke sat in the corner, cackling and grunting as if the whole occasion was some large joke. Drinks of every different type floated about the room; wine, champagne, firewhisky, and some food as well, bumping gently into people's heads. Bella wasn't tall enough to reach any of it and it angered her, she hated being small and insignificant. She saw Andromeda playing on the floor in amongst the feet and was going to vent off some frustration by kicking the small child when she thought she heard a muffled yell from somewhere in the house. No one else seemed to have noticed anything; they were all too drunk or preoccupied in themselves so she slipped quietly through the door, unseen by any of them and found herself in the dimly lit hallway, a few candles floating in midair casting a kind of orange light on everything. A portrait of Walpurga raised a sharp eyebrow but thankfully said nothing. The dark wooden floor creaked slightly beneath her feet so she stopped and looked around. She couldn't hear anything against the babble of noise from the other room even though she strained to hear the yell again.

She liked this house, perhaps more than her own even though it was incomparable in size and she hadn't visited it as many times as she would have liked. It was strange and cluttered with odd trinkets embossed with the Black family crest. There were small photographs of Walpurga and her Uncle Orion. In some her aunt looked much younger, standing with Bella's father and Grandparents, all staring stoically out of their frames, blinking through identical heavy-lidded, dark eyes. Bella tried to open a locked glass cupboard that looked interesting but got distracted when she saw a large tapestry hanging majestically on the wall. It was covered in golden names and Bellatrix realised with a start that it was the Black family tree reaching high up towards the ceiling. It was huge compared to Bella so there was no way she could find the very first Blacks, all very far towards the top of the tapestry. But she could reach her own golden name at the bottom and she fingered it fondly, following the golden line that ran from her parents names to her. She wondered for a second about the small irregular burn marks that dotted the tree all the way up but this thought snapped out of her mind when she heard the yelling again, slightly stronger but still only just audible.

_It's upstairs,_ thought the young girl, frantically biting her lip. She looked towards the staircase at the end of the hall and hesitated. The staircase ascended into darkness and Bellatrix had never been up there on her own before; her heart was pounding. She heard the shouts again and her feet and curiosity got the better of her. The voices were becoming clearer as she climbed so she sped up determined to find the source. As Bella reached the third floor landing she saw a door ajar, light was flooding out from the room into the otherwise blackened corridor. The yelling was coming from it. Bellatrix discerned two voices so instantly recognisable to her that she thought she might fall in horror.

"_You're never at home anymore Cygnus! I-I want to join you! I want to help Him with you!"_

"_Quiet! Do not bring up the Dark Lord! Your place is to have my son!"_

There was a huge crash and Bella stupidly found she ran towards the door, she wanted to look, but stopped short of running through the door. She could see the room inside was trashed, her parents were armed with their wands at opposite sides of the room, the only thing separating the two was a huge poster bed, the hangings torn. Her mother's neat hair was spilling out from its usual tight knot; her father's eyes were wild and demented like a beast's.

"_How dare you try and smash that on me?!" _Hissed her father.

"BECAUSE I BELIEVE IN THE DARK LORD TOO, I BELIEVE IN IT ALL AND YOU–"

Druella's scream was cut short a ripping sound as her father tore a floorboard up with his wand and sent it flying at his wife. The corner caught her forehead and she staggered backwards, her hand clutching her head, blood flowing rapidly through her fingers. Her eyes looked towards her husband, flooded with tears, her mouth opening and closing silently as if all words had abandoned her.

Of all the fights Bellatrix had witnessed between them recently, this one shocked her to the very core, her mother's loss of control seemed absolute and she had never seen it happen before. The usually self-composed, cold woman who could watch someone almost get strangled in her own home without apparent bother was completely disturbed now by her own husband.

"Now you listen," Cygnus began, slowing approaching his wife, his wand outstretched. "_You listen to me! You are not to get involved, you do not understand as I do! I'm a Black, you are a Rosier, you are my Rosier wife! – My cousin gets my sister and he gets a perfect Black son! My last child was a runty little girl, plain mousey hair – all my family are whispering she is illegitimate! Is she?! _ARE YOU A WHORE?! You know what I think about whores! _I'll send you to a brothel, slut, where men can rape you and you can continue to have all their disgusting bastard babies!_ –_"_

"– H-how dare you!" she gasped, her tears frozen momentarily in shock. "How can you speak like this t-to me!? You love me, you're supposed to love me… W-what's _happened _ to you? We have been married for nearly _ten years_!" she spat, her anger returned. She pointed her wand at a picture frame on the wall which went flying at Cygnus' head. With a snarl he flicked his wand smashing it away easily. In turn he pointed his wand directly at his wife and she flew against the wall behind her with a sickening thud. Druella's head lolled forward obscenely as her body crumpled into a heap. Her wand rolled away from her. Trembling violently she attempted to push herself up, blood was still running down her face and now staining her blond hair from the wound in the back of her skull. Barely awake she pawed at her husband's robes in front of her, blood from her face smearing their pure white, all dignity forgotten.

"…Cygnus…Cygnus _please_…you know Andromeda is yours…we can prove the paternity…" Her voice was barely more than a whisper, hardly discernable above Cygnus' heavy breathing.

He looked down upon his wife, his face blank of emotion.

"I-I am no whore," she breathed "You-you know this…B-but you've changed recently Cygnus… I want you back, back from _Him-"_

With another snarl Cygnus knelt down, grabbed a handful of hair and smacked her viciously across the face with his own hand. Then grasping her roughly around the shoulders he pulled her upwards bending his head towards her ear.

"Don't you dare, don't you _dare_ tarnish Him," his voice was soft, dangerous, alluring. "I never want to hear you even _speak_ of him again. I want to protect you but you make it so very difficult for me. You cannot join him, I forbid it." Cygnus stood again, pulling up the limp body.

"The way you can help is by obeying me! Now I want an heir!"

"No…n-no," she stuttered, feebly trying to push him away. "I will not…I will NOT!"

Druella's efforts were futile; her husband was much larger than her and she was already in a severely weakened state. He shook her violently then spun her around and flung her onto the bed in front of him. Cygnus threw his wand to the side and then moving sharply, pinned his wife down with his knees as she tried to crawl away. She started to scream her husband's name as she found her voice but he hit her again, knocking away her breath. Violently he then ripped away her own white christening robes, exposing her heaving chest. His face was alight with desire entwined with anger, perhaps verging on madness in this moment. He hungrily unbuckled his own robes with one hand, ignoring his wife's weak sobs as he pinned her down with the other. With every thrust she murmered but her protests became feebler as her body started to respond to Cygnus astride her. Her cries obscenely started to turn to pained laughter through tears and a bloodied face…

Bellatrix stood limply at the door as she felt firm hands press onto her shoulders; she crumpled like a marionette to the floor, lifeless, as if someone had cut her strings. She barely felt the strong arms pick her up but she could smell her aunt's scent, taking her away. Her vision was black; she couldn't hear anything except her mother's screams of pain mixed with some masochistic pleasure which vibrated through her skull. Her senses were numb except for some unbearable pain which seemed to rip through her stomach, piercing her, as if she had been gutted. A sharp tap across her face brought her back to some consciousness, but the taste of vomit in her mouth made her vision swim again and she retched. From far away she could hear the echoing voice of Walpurga as she was laid onto a bed.

"Kreacher, I want you to watch her and guard her, probably from herself – I've heard she has a destructive streak. If anything happens there won't be enough of you left for decapitation."

"Mistress," answered a croaking, ugly voice.

Bellatrix felt a finger placed onto her lips and her aunt's whisper; "Never tell. Never speak of it." And the darkness was the last thing she remembered.


End file.
